


Vulquinn Days

by ExpectoPadoughnut



Category: Impractical Jokers, the tenderloins
Genre: Drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-22 10:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8281825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpectoPadoughnut/pseuds/ExpectoPadoughnut
Summary: A collection of drabbles centered around Sal Vulcano and Brian Quinn's relationship - Vulquinn.[ Nothing has to be read in chronological order ][ Drabble #6 posted]





	1. A Slither of Blanket

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> **I've been itching to get my fingers into something different so this happened. I'll update it every now and again so stay tuned for some weekly fluff.**  
> 

Q’s temper simmered. He lay soldier stiff, staring foully at the ceiling as if it had just told him to fuck off some place unpleasant. Not sure how much more he could take, he attempted once more to cover himself but the slither of blanket fell right off his hip. 

“You’re taking up the whole bed,” he barked. “Can you please move over?”

There was no reply; just soft breathing and gentle movements where Sal’s shoulders rose with each inhale. Q narrowed his eyes and flicked his head to the right, glaring at the back of Sal’s neck. “I know you’re awake,” he bit, grabbing a handful of blanket and tugging it to no avail. He could see Sal’s shoulder’s shake with silent laughter and it tormented him to no end. “Jerk,” he muttered, rolling away to scowl at the wall. 

A warm hand slithered around his hip and pulled him close. He smiled despite himself and nestled close to Sal’s chest, both men murmuring their goodnights.


	2. Calculator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **I couldn't resist this. [runs away to hide]**  
> 

Heavy breathing silenced his thoughts as they lay together, heavily intoxicated in a post coital bliss. Cum leaked shamelessly from him and he didn’t give a single fuck to go clean up; his legs wouldn’t have permitted the walk anyway, after they’d been slung over Sal’s shoulders for 10 minutes while his ass was being fucked. 

“I just burned about 200 calories havin’ sex,” said Sal, extending his phone over Q’s shoulder to blind him with the light. “See, I’ve got this app here that calculates it. So, missionary burns about 60, depending on how quick I fuck yo-”

Q batted the phone away and pushed himself off the bed. “Fuckin’ hell man, don’t calculate our sex life in front of me.” He stretched with a delicious groan and his cock bounced. “I’mma go shower.”

“Shower sex could burn another 100 if you let me!” Sal yelled after him, stretching across the bed with a satisfied smirk and continued to scroll through cosmopolitan.


	3. Ashtray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **[ I'm sorry ]**  
> 

Sal rolled over with a sigh, fixing his gaze on the crack near the window pane, the same one he glared at every time this happened. It was there again; that sinking feeling of regret, guilt and loathing – he fuckin’ hated himself right now. It took everything to fight off the thoughts of the man who was waiting at home for him, the man whose anxiety would have worn the carpet thin, the man whose nails would be bitten to the bed, the man who whispered ‘I love you’ every night as they closed their eyes together. Except for tonight; these nights, when Sal crawled into bed with the sleaziest piece of ass he could find, too drunk to think of Q, and his vision too blurred to focus on the thick golden band that he hid behind a filthy ashtray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> **[ Doughnuts? ]**  
> 


	4. Ashtray [ Part Two ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[ Sorry, again ]**  
> 

Q tidied the kitchen before he left; he lined the bottles of whiskey in order, tallest to smallest, just the way Sal liked them to be. He arranged the fruit bowl to look like a painting; the sheen of ruby red apples always made Sal smile, even if they were never eaten and just decayed for days in that ugly fruit bowl. He straightened the kitchen chairs, making sure there was a place mat in front of each one, and in the middle he put an ashtray, beneath which a single sheet of paper lay, waiting to be read.

A tear drop stained the bottom left corner, above which Q's penmanship had scribbled,  _I'm sorry I'm not what you wanted._ A heavy golden wedding band weighed the page down. There really was no need for that ashtray. 


	5. What? Oh hell no! Hold up ... Huh. Oh, ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Props to those who get this piece. Major props. Lemmie know if you get it. I'll have an update on _Cigarettes and Coffee_ tomorrow, I promise. For now, have this.**

"What?" He must have misheard. The traffic outside was heavy and it was rush hour. Joe's silver sedan rattled noisily along 34th street. Joe in the front, chattin' shit to Murr. and he and Q in the back. Q was staring innocently at him.

 

"I said," and he looked casually over the front seat at the other Joker's backs, then to Sal with a crooked grin. "You wanna hand job?" Q stretched his hand cross the seat and slipped beneath the jacket which rested over Sal's lap. 

 

"Oh hell no!" He squirmed away from Q's touch and batted the intruding hand away. "We'll be _seen_ ," he hissed, eyeing the back of his friend's heads with a worried look. Q grunted a short laugh, his fingers stretching enough to brush against the fabric of Sal's jeans where a small tent had formed. He grinned triumphantly. "Just hold up, okay?" Sal murmured. "I got something you're gonna like."

 

Q cocked his head. "Huh? Whatcha mean?"

 

Sal let his own triumphant smile escape, before opening a purple bag between his feet and letting Q peek inside. Now it was Q's turn to blush, the flush spreading to the roots of his hair. "Oh," he whispered, wide eyed. "Okay."

 

When they climbed out of the car, saying their good bye's and promises to meet for a movie on Friday, Joe stuck his head out the window and hollered across the street. "I'll check out yer blog later if ye like!"


	6. Stray's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ I couldn't resist this lil' plot kitty that nagged at me be written. The thought just _kills_ me to picture it. Y'know what else is killin' me, but in a bad way? The library is closed tomorrow and that fuckin' sucks. Ah well, enjoy! ] 

"No," affirmed Sal, turning back to his newspaper and ruffling it with intent. There was _no way_ his husband was bringing another one of those _things_ into their home. Nope. There was already a basket full of them in the living room that made ridiculous noises and smells at ungodly hours of the morning. Just nope.

 

"Oh come oooon," whined Q, flopping onto the couch next to his stubborn husband. He tilted his head to one side and widened his eyes into pleading orbs. Sal raised the paper to conceal the puppy dog look. "Just _one_ more, I swear," he lied. 

 

Sal scoffed and cocked an eyebrow above the front page article. "You and I both know that's a fucking lie. Not to mention you promised that _two_ cat's ago. _Two_ Brian, because this isn't the first stray you've gone out to find."

 

"I didn't _intend_ to find him," he lied again, petting the ginger cat's head with a cooing voice. "He found _me,_ while I was drinking coffee with Murr."

 

Sal dropped the paper onto his lap and turned to face his husband with a cocky smirk. "Murray already squealed on you. He said you forced him to walk through that damn park you found the last one in, just in case it had _siblings_ roaming around."

 

Q narrowed his eyes and made a mental note to beat the Ferret. _Fuckin' fucker_. "Alright so I went back to the park and I might have gone lookin', the Ferret is tellin' the truth. But did he tell you about the _dog's_ that were sniffing around." Q held the sleeping kitten out to Sal, who recoiled with distaste and flapped the newspaper in defence. 

 

"That thing could be infested, get it away from me," he snapped, opening the newspaper to shield his body and looking fuckin' ridiculous. He hated his husbands cat obsession, hated the constant meowing - not, it was fuckin' _screeching_ \- and he hated plucking kitty litter from the soles of his socks. But at the end of the day he was a fuckin' marshmallow and Q knew it. "Get it checked out."

 

Q's face brightened. "You mean we can keep him? For reals."

 

"I suppose," Sal grumbled, turning back to his paper to hide the small smile that lingered on the corner of his lips. "But get it's balls chopped off. We're too young to be grandparents."

 

Q leaned in to peck Sal's scruffy cheek and nuzzled behind his ear. "I love you," he told him, pushing off the couch and cuddling the ginger stray close to his body. "Don't worry little kitty, you're gonna fit right on in here." He wondered around the house gathering his keys and wallet. "Let's get you cleaned up first and then y'can meet your brothers and sisters."

 

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> **Thanks for reading.**  
> 


End file.
